Beautiful Lie
by sunflowerb
Summary: I hope she's a fool. A beautiful fool." Congratulations Daisy. You got what you wanted. She's a beautiful fool, just like you wanted. She's a beautiful fool, just like you. Nick's POV. future oneshot. Nick comes east for Pammi's wedding.


**A/N: So, I know that those of you who have me on author alert are probably mad because I'm posting something so random rather than the next chapter of the stories I've already got going. But I've had this idea since we read The Great Gatsby in class, and I wrote it in my english journal, and then decided to post it here. **

**Nick's POV, over fifteen years after the end of The Great Gatsby. oneshot.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, this sixteen year old girl who doesn't even have her learner's permit owns one of the greatest American novels ever written. Especially considering it was written seventy-something years before she was born.**

_Beautiful Lie_

"_I hope she's a fool. A beautiful fool."-Daisy_

I'm not certain of the exact number of years that have passed since I deserted that moral wasteland that is East Egg. I do know that it has been a great number of them indeed, because the girl was still a tiny child when I left, and now she is old enough to have a reason for calling me all the way over across the country to attend her wedding.

Since leaving, I have a bit unwillingly kept in touch with Daisy. I aided in her reunion with Gatsby, and she seems to find it in her cold heart that she owes me somewhat for that. As much as I would love to wash my hands of her entire world, we are still family, so the least I can do is send her a letter when I have a child.

And, it seems, to attend the wedding of hers. Daisy has never met my wife and children, and I am using that as my excuse for not introducing them to the disgusting squalor of my cousin's world. I only hope Daisy doesn't point out that this would have been a marvelous opportunity to meet them; I haven't' got a remark for that one yet.

I suppose one of the most influential reasons for my attending the wedding is that I have a curiosity to see if Daisy and Tom have somehow managed to rear a decent child. I have rented a hotel room in the city, rather than staying with Daisy. The shorter the amount of time I am forced to be around her, the better. Or course, I'm obligated to come and say hello when I arrive, which is why I find myself standing before her extravagant mansion. It isn't the same one I'd seen before; the Buchanan's have long since traded up 'that mere starter home we had' for an even larger, even more ostentatious palace.

"Nick! You absolute dear, you!" I have barely stepped through the door into the bustling house and Daisy has already found me. My cousin looks as lovely as ever, though a great deal older. She seems to be one of those sorts who only improve with age; physically, that is.

I smile, and reluctantly slip back on the mask of affection; reminding myself that she is still family, and that there must have been something I liked about her in our youth. The mansion is full of people preparing for the wedding, and Daisy only has enough time for a kiss before she must be whisked away to insure her daughter's wedding will be perfect. "Pammi is upstairs, in the parlor on the right. Go say hello to her, Nick. I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you, it's been so many years." I doubt that to be true. Pammi was a toddler when last I saw her, and then it was only for a few minutes. It's unlikely that she even remembers me. Nevertheless, I climb the superfluously decorated stairs to her parlor to speak to the child anyway.

Perhaps 'child' is no longer the best choice of words. She is nineteen, I believe; nineteen and beautiful. She resembles Daisy more than Tom; she has the same radiant quality to her. As I enter I see her sitting on the ornate couch, writing a letter, it seems. She looks sad as she writes, but as I clear my throat to announce my presence, she looks up with such energy and happiness in her smile that it seems absurd to think she might have a trouble in the world.

"Hello," she says sweetly, her voice tinkling in a way reminiscent of Daisy's.

"Hello there Pammi," I reply, unsure of how to speak to the girl. She was only a child when last I saw her. "I'm Nick; Nick Carroway. I'm your mother's cousin. Do you remember me? We met once when you were very small."

She doesn't remember me. She hasn't the slightest clue who I am. But her mother has told her about me. "Of course I remember you!" she says, smiling wider. "How could I forget you? It's wonderful to see you again!" she tells me as she hugs me. She's lying through her pearly teeth. She's overdoing it; she shouldn't be so excited about seeing someone she met when she was three.

"I simply came up to say hello, but it seems you're busy, so I'll let you get back to your letter, and I'll see if I can't help your mother, or maybe say hello to your father," I tell her.

She frowns slightly. "Daddy's out." She says simply. "He's gone to see Richard's parents. I think he and Richard's father are going to play polo. And Mummy is all busy with preparations. She'd tell you to stay out of the way because you're a guest." She tried to put on another smile. "Please, stay and talk to me."

"But what about your letter?"

Of all the things I had anticipated having to endure on this trip, being let into the confidence of a nineteen-year-old bride-to-be was not one of them. As Pammi put it, I'd be leaving right after the wedding anyway, so it didn't matter if I knew. She makes it clear that she really does love Richard, her fiancé, and that I have to understand that before she can continue.

Pammi, it seems, is engaged to Richard Evanson, an exceedingly handsome boy who is as breathtakingly wealthy as the Buchanan's. Her engagement ring seems too heavy for her finger to hold up, yet she manages it anyway. She explains that the colossal diamond flanked with sapphires set on the gold band was so expensive that Richard was reluctant to tell her how much it had cost. "He didn't want me to think he was careless with his money." Pammi explains. She goes on to mention that she loves how willing he is to spend so much on her. She is utterly taken by his money and his lavish gift-giving.

And then, it seems, there is Samuel. Samuel Gardner is a young man from New York, who, according to Pammi, is completely in love with her, but hasn't got a cent to his name. "I love him too. He's wonderful…"she says sadly, fingering her diamond engagement ring. "But he hasn't got a dime. He saved up all his money to buy me an engagement ring, and all he could afford was a sterling silver ring with a little cubic zirconium crystal. He couldn't even get me a diamond!" She sighs unhappily. "It's such a pity…He's such a wonderful boy…" It has become clear to me that Pammi is much more in love with this Samuel boy than with her fiancé, but it also seems that she has chosen the richer of the two. "I just don't know what to do."

"Well," I begin, trying to think of some way to advise her in the right path. "I suppose that now you're wondering which to marry?"

Pammi gives me an incredulous look. "What? No! I'm marrying Richard! I can't marry Sam! He's an angel, but didn't you hear what he gave me? A fake diamond! I can't marry him! I've got to figure out how to tell him so, you see."

I stare at her. I think of this boy, Samuel, and the picture I get of what he must look like is a young Jay Gatsby. "Don't tell him it's because of money. Tell him you're not good enough for him. Tell him he doesn't know you as well as he thinks he does. Tell him anything. Just don't you dare mention money." Before Pammi can question my order, we hear a shout from downstairs.

"Pammi, dear! Richard is here to see you! He's on his way up the stairs!"

"Oh!" Pammi suddenly looks frightened. She rushes to a mirror and begins quickly making sure that no tears are evident on her face and that her appearance is flawless. She turns to me. "How do I look? Not upset? Beautiful?" You look perfect. Happy. Smiling as if nothing is wrong.

"I think you look beautiful," I tell her, thoroughly disgusted, "I think you look like a beautiful lie."

I don't bother replying to her sudden confusion. Neither do I bother sparing Richard a look or a thought as I pass him on the stairs. I pass Daisy in the hall, and she stops me momentarily.

"Nick, not leaving now, are you?"

"I'm sorry, Daisy, I've got to go now. I've got things to do." I leave before she can say another word.

Congratulations, Daisy. You got what you wanted. She's a beautiful fool, just like you wanted. She's a beautiful fool, just like you.

_fini_

**A/N: Yup. There you go. I think that line of Daisy's "I hope she's a fool. A beautiful fool." is one of the most poignant lines in the book. Reviews are nice. Please leave one. Thanks. -Sunny**


End file.
